Zack slid his arm around her from behind, pulling her trim buttocks against him, and smiled into her hair. “You feel very nice.”
She leaned lightly against him, and he felt his body surge and harden.
“So do you.”
Swallowing, Zack diverted himself by concentrating on Mayor Addelson. Addelson’s thick hair was the strange grayish yellow blond that seemed more common in Texas than anywhere Zack had ever been, but the mayor obviously shared every politician’s love of pomp and speech making, because he talked for almost a half hour about the grand battle once fought on Keaton’s soil and about the history of the town, beginning with its founders. Zack was mentally comparing the individual merits, or lack thereof, of the movie scripts he’d read last week, when he realized the mayor’s speech was over and he was talking about Zack:
“Before we sound the cannon and open up the celebration, I’d like to spend just a minute talking about the special visitor we have in town. It’s no secret from any of you that Zack Benedict is here right now or that he’s visiting Julie Mathison. It’s also no secret that the great state of Texas hasn’t been very friendly or lucky for him in the past. I know how much y’all are hopin’ to meet him and how eager we all are to change his impression of Texans, but folks, the best way to do that is to give him some space and let him get to know us in his own way. You all know what he’s been through, and you’ve all seen the way people mob movie stars and pester them for autographs. Zack probably has nowhere in the world where he can relax and be treated like ordinary folks like to be treated. Except here. Let’s show him what it’s like to have a hometown like Julie’s, where people care about each other and look after each other!”
That invocation was greeted with a loud burst of applause, a drum roll from the bandstand, and friendly grins and waves from hundreds of people aimed at Zack, which he politely returned.
To Zack’s surprised pleasure, the townspeople adhered to the mayor’s suggestion, and Zack had the best and most relaxing day in a public place that he could ever remember having in fifteen years. Nor was he immune to the mood of celebration and the uniquely Americana flavor of what was going on around him. As day drifted into evening, he had an amazingly enjoyable time doing foolishly simple things like visiting booths where homemade items from cakes to crocheted linens were on sale, devouring hot dogs slathered with mustard, and joking with Ted and Katherine about whether or not all the games in the booths were fixed or just the ones they’d tried to win. But then, he was with Julie, and as he’d already discovered in Colorado, she had a gift for making even the mundane seem like an adventure.
She was also a great favorite of the townspeople, and their affection for her seemed to tentatively include him, too— now that his words at the gymnasium last night gave them every reason to expect he’d come here “to do right by her.” Zack was dying to prove it to them and to the world by sliding the engagement ring he’d chosen that morning onto her finger, but he was waiting for the right moment. After the calamity of their last attempt to exchange rings, he was adamantly determined that this attempt would make up for the grimness of the other, that it would be joyous, memorable, and lighthearted.
Now, as he walked with her through the noisy, brightly lit carnival grounds at sunset, he was well aware of the tencarat radiant-cut diamond in his pocket as well as the smiling, curious glances of the hundreds of Keaton citizens who were enjoying the carnival rides and booths and all of whom were undoubtedly wondering if and when he was actually going to declare himself. Occasionally, he noticed people taking pictures of them, but they were discreet about it.
“Want to ride the ferris wheel?” Zack asked her, when Julie paused to look up at it.
“Only if you promise you won’t make the seat rock,” she said, pulling off a piece of her pink cotton candy and feeding it to him.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Zack lied, chewing it. “Julie, that stuff tastes terrible. How can you eat it? Give me another bite.”
She laughed and pulled off another sticky pink glob and they both smiled at the couples who passed them with a friendly nod. “I meant what I said about rocking the seat,” she warned when he dug in his pocket for money. “I’m . . . well . . . a little edgy about ferris wheels.”
“You?” he said in disbelief. “The woman who nearly got us killed a few minutes ago in that flying rocket capsule thing when you made it spin.”
“That was different. We were enclosed in a cage. Ferris wheels,” she said as she tipped her head back looking at the very high ferris wheel, “are open and a little scary.”
Zack was about to walk up to the ticket booth when a barker called out behind him, “Step right up and win a gen-u-ine gold-filled ring set with simulated jewels! Shoot five ducks and win your girl a ring, shoot ten, and win a giant teddy bear for her to cuddle.”
Zack turned, glanced at the mechanical ducks moving in an endless row, at the fake shotguns propped in the booth, and the tray of rings with huge glittering fake “jewels” in every color from egg-yolk yellow to ruby red. And inspiration struck.
“I thought you wanted to ride the ferris wheel,” Julie said, as he took her arm and turned her firmly around.
“First,” he announced, “I want to win you a gen-u-ine gold-filled ring with a simulated jewel.”
“How many chances do you . . . want?” the man in the booth said, his voice trailing off as he stared at Zack’s face. “You sure look familiar, buddy.” He took Zack’s money and handed him the gun without taking his eyes off his face, then he turned to Julie. “Your boyfriend looks just like— you know—whathisname—the actor. You know—” he prompted her when Zack ignored him and raised the gun, testing the sight. “You know who I mean, don’t you?”
Julie met Zack’s sideways smile with a provocative one from beneath her lashes. “The good-looking guy?” she clarified, talking to the barker. “Rugged? Handsome? Dark hair?”
“Yeah, him!”
“Steven Seagal!” she joked, and Zack missed his shot.
Lowering the gun, he gave her an indignant look and raised it again.
“Nah, not him,” said the man. “This guy’s taller, a little older, better looking.” Zack gave her a smug smile.
“Warren Beatty!” Julie cried, and he missed his second shot.
“Julie,” he warned out of the side of his mouth, his shoulders shaking with laughter, “do you want a ring or not?”
“Not,” she said smugly. “I want a teddy bear.”
“Then stop drooling over my competition and let me shoot these damned ducks before we draw a bigger crowd.”
She glanced around and saw that despite their obvious desire to adhere to the mayor’s suggestion and leave Zack alone, a large group of townspeople had stopped to watch, drawn to the amazing spectacle of the real-life Zack Benedict reenacting a shoot-out scene, like something from one of his movies, except the targets were metal ducks, not Mafia hit men, spies, or bad guys.
Zack hit eight out of eight ducks and someone clapped, then hastily stopped. “Turn around, honey,” Zack said. “You’re making me nervous.”
When she complied, Zack reached into his pocket, winked at the man behind the booth and quickly put the diamond engagement ring in the tray with the glass ones, then he fired twice more and deliberately missed. “Okay,” he told Julie, picking up the tray, “turn around and pick out a ring.”
Julie turned around. “What? No teddy bear?” she asked, oblivious to the gaping carnival barker who was staring open-mouthed at the ring tray.
“Sorry, I missed the last two shots. Which ring do you like?”
Julie glanced down at the rainbow of large yellow, pink, red, and dark blue stones glittering atop cheap gold settings. And she saw the diamond. Larger by far than all the glass stones, it sparkled and glowed, reflecting the revolving lights on the ferris wheel. She recognized the cut because it matched the diamonds in her wedding band, and when she looked up at Zack, she recognized the somber, tender look in
his eyes. “Do you like it?” he asked.
The people who had watched him shoot sensed that something was happening, or perhaps it was the gaping stare of the man in the booth that drew them forward to get a closer look.
“I like it,” Julie said softly, shakily.
“Shall we take it with us and find a place to put it on?”
She nodded wordlessly, he took the ring out, and when they turned, the small crowd of onlookers saw the grin on his face and began to smile. “Up there,” Zack said, pulling her toward the ticket booth at the ferris wheel. “Quick,” he said, laughing as the man in the booth called to the crowd in a loud, stunned voice. “That guy—the one who looks like Warren Beatty—just took the biggest damned diamond ring you’ve ever seen out of his pocket and gave it to her!”
Reverend and Mrs. Mathison were talking to the mayor and his wife and Katherine’s parents, who’d flown in for the festivities. They were standing near the Tilt-a-Whirl when Katherine and Ted came running up followed by a group of their own friends. “It’s official,” Ted said, laughing. “Julie and Zack just got engaged.” In a deliberate and successful effort to discomfit his father, he added, “With a ring Zack won in one of the booths.”
“That doesn’t sound very official to me,” Reverend Mathison said, frowning.
“I was kidding, Dad. It’s a real ring.”
Everyone turned in delighted surprise, looking around for the engaged couple to congratulate them. “Where are they?” Mrs. Mathison said, beaming.
Katherine pointed to the ferris wheel, which was stopped now, with a crowd cheering uproariously at the base of it. “They’re up there,” Katherine said, smiling at the uppermost chair, “on top of the world.”
By the time they reached the ferris wheel to offer congratulations, the crowd was chanting, “Kiss her, Zack! Kiss her!” and the photographer from the Keaton Crier was aiming his camera at the couple in the topmost chair and lending his voice to the effort.
With his arm around her, Zack tipped Julie’s chin up with his free hand. “They aren’t going to let us down until they see us kiss.”
She bit her lip, her cheeks flushed with color, her eyes bright with love, her palm protectively covering the diamond ring he’d slipped on her finger. “I can’t believe you did this here—in front of everyone. You hate publicity.”
Zack tightened his arm, pulling her forward. “Not this publicity, I don’t. The whole damned world,” he whispered, lowering his head, “has witnessed our misery. Let them see what happens when a hardened escaped convict meets up with an angel who believed in him. Kiss me, Julie.”
In the midst of the cheer that went up down below at the sight of the couple locked in an embrace, Mayor Addelson grinned at his wife and looked around at Ted. “Did your father get him to promise?”
Ted’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Yep.”
“Poor devil,” Addelson said, looking up at the long, thorough kiss that Zack was giving his new fiancée. “He’s not going to be able to stand much of that then.”
“Nope.”
“When’s the wedding?”
“Zack said something about wanting it to happen in two weeks.”
“Not soon enough,” John Grayson, one of Ted’s friends, put in with a knowing grin. He looked at his wife. “It’ll seem like two years. Remember, Susan?”
She nodded, peeking at Katherine. “Your father-in-law is a truly treacherous man.”
“And a very wise one,” Mayor Addelson added, sobering.
“That’s not,” Marian Addelson reminded him, “the way you felt before our wedding, dear.”
“No, but it was how I felt on our wedding night.”
Grayson considered the kissing couple for a moment, then added, “I suppose he knows about the cold-shower trick.”
83
“JULIE, DON’T, DARLING. I CAN’T stand much more of this,” Zack muttered several nights later, reluctantly pulling her arms from around his neck and sitting up on the sofa in her living room. After two days in the Rest Your Bones Motel, Zack had realized Julie’s parents were genuinely hurt that he wasn’t staying with them, and he’d gratefully checked out of the motel and accepted their invitation. The accommodations were much better and the food was wonderful, but he was sleeping in Julie’s old bedroom, surrounded with reminders of her. During the day, while she was at school, teaching her classes, he worked at her house, going over scripts, talking to his staff in California, and discussing potential deals with producers on the telephone, and he was able to think about something besides his increasing sexual frustration. But when Julie came home, he took one look at her and desire inevitably led to foreplay, which invariably led to frustration, and it started all over again.
So fragile was his remaining hold on his self-control that, instead of staying home with her in the evenings, he’d begun preferring to spend them with Julie and her friends at the local dinner and entertainment spots. Two nights ago, he’d actually ended up necking with her in the back row of the local movie theater, where he knew things couldn’t go too far, and the night before, he’d suggested they go bowling, where he knew things couldn’t go anywhere at all.
Swearing under his breath, Zack set Julie firmly away from him and got up from the sofa. “I should never have let your father talk me into this ridiculous notion of premarital celibacy. It’s archaic, it’s pointless, and it’s juvenile! He did it to get even with me for kidnapping you. The man is clever and he’s sadistic! The only time I felt right about this promise was in church on Sunday.”
Julie bit back a helpless smile and said with an attempt at gravity, “Why do you suppose that happened?”
“I know why it happened! The hour in church was the only time in the past week I haven’t had an erection.”
This was not the first time Zack had mentioned the bargain he’d made with her father, but he was so sensitive about it that Julie was almost afraid to tell him that he was not an isolated victim. He had a great deal of pride, and he was essentially a very private person. Because of that, she wasn’t certain how he’d react to the discovery that every male in town who’d been married by her father knew exactly what was going on. She looked up as he began to pace in front of her.
“I am thirty-five years old,” he informed her bitterly. “I am a reasonably sophisticated man with an above-average IQ, and I not only feel like a sex-starved, randy eighteen-year-old, I’m behaving like one! I’ve taken so many cold showers, your mother must think I have a cleanliness obsession. I am becoming irritable.”
Julie shoved her hair off her forehead, stood up, and looked at him with exasperated amusement. “I would never have noticed.”
With an irritated sigh, he stacked the scripts he’d been reading on the table and said, “What do you think we should do tonight?”
“Have you considered the sedative benefits of reorganizing the kitchen cabinets?” she teased, her shoulders lurching. “That always worked for me. We could do it together.”
Zack opened his mouth to snap a retort, but the phone rang, so he jerked it up and took his frustration out on whoever was on the other end of the line. “What the hell do you want?”
Sally Morrison, his publicist in California said dryly, “Good evening, Zack. So nice to talk to you. I’m calling to talk to Julie. She needs to tell me now whether you want the wedding invitations delivered by limousine tomorrow morning or by courier. I’ve already phoned the lucky fifty people who are going to receive a coveted invitation, so they’ll have time to make arrangements to be in Texas bright and early Saturday morning. No one declined. Betty and I,” she added referring to his secretary, “have arranged for limos to meet them at DFW and get them to Keaton, and I’ve reserved blocks of suites for them on Saturday night in the Dallas hotels that met your approval.”
Some of Zack’s former annoyance faded. He waited until Julie walked into the dining room, then he lowered his voice and said, “Does she have any idea who’s going to be here?”
&n
bsp; “No, boss. In accordance with your instructions to surprise her, I told her to count on having fifty of your most boring business associates in attendance. Fifty-one, including me.”
“What about the press?” Zack asked. “How are you keeping them out of our hair? They know I’m here, and they know I’m getting married Saturday. It’s all over the network newscasts. I’ve only seen a couple reporters hanging around and they keep their distance. I figured they’d be swarming over us like locusts by now.”
Sally hesitated for a pregnant moment. “Didn’t Julie tell you how she decided to handle the press?”
“No.”
“She allowed them all to be present for one hour. If you don’t approve, I’m going to have a hell of a time trying to back out of our deal with them.”
“What deal?” Zack demanded.
“Ask Julie after we hang up. Can I talk to her now?”
Zack held the phone out and looked over his shoulder. “Julie, Sally needs to talk to you.”
“Be right there,” she said. She walked in carrying the ever-present tablet she used to keep track of whatever details seemed to occupy women when a wedding was imminent, and he watched her pull off her right earring and tuck the phone between her shoulder and chin. “Hi, Sally,” she said with a pleasant softness that made Zack feel like an irascible, belligerent, selfish jerk who couldn’t control his own sexual urges and manage to behave like a gentleman. “What’s up?” She listened for a minute and then said, “I’ll ask Zack.”
She smiled at him, which made Zack feel worse, and said, “Sally still wants to know whether to have your invitations delivered to the California people by limousine tomorrow or whether to use a messenger service.” She consulted her tablet “Using limousines will cost four times as much.’*